If This Is Love
by guitar.xx.hero
Summary: Hermione Granger finds herself dumped, pregnant by another man and despite her friends being there for her, she's never felt more alone. Will a certain someone manage to win her heart and make everything better? Dramione.


Hermione ran a desperate hand through her curly hair; her eyes were wide open and her mind was working overtime. Instinctively, after releasing the hand from her tangle of hair, she pressed it against her slightly bulging stomach, the entire reason this argument was even happening. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes as she looked down at the floor ashamedly. She made no attempt to wipe them away, or hide the fact that she was crying. It didn't matter anymore.

"You're a fucking slut," he spat out, causing Hermione to jolt in shock and sob louder than she could ever remember.

"I'm not a slut," she whispered. He laughed. A small piece of her soul broke and she could no longer feel anything but the searing pain within her heart.

She felt a soft finger press against her chin and she looked up into the wonderful blue eyes she had once fallen in love with, those many years ago. But they weren't so wonderful anymore. They were full of hatred and disgust; more so than she had ever seen in them before, and they'd had their fair few arguments.

"If you think you're anymore special than a dirty slag," he paused for a moment to relish the pain on her face. "Well, you're _supposed _to be the smart one in this relationship..."

She knew, deep down, that in essence his words were true. She had been a whore; she'd allowed herself to be seduced and taken advantage of by another man. And now she was going to have a baby with no spousal support as her punishment.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, unable to say anything else. He laughed again. "I'm sorry," she repeated with a whimper. Again he laughed.

But it wasn't _all _her fault. She knew that much. The man who had seduced her while her boyfriend had been in vigorous training to be an Auror; he was to blame, too. Even her boyfriend could hold some blame, he'd put her on the back bench while he focused on his career. While she was at Hogwarts, working equally as hard as he to obtain her qualifications, sending him at least one letter every single day, he would only contact her once a week (if she was lucky). When he did contact her, his letters were full of tripe. He never once wrote the three precious words she always hoped for: 'I love you'.

Movement before her eyes snapped Hermione out of her reverie. She gasped loudly as she watched him rummaging through their shared wardrobe, ripping her clothes out in the process and throwing them unceremoniously into a small trunk opened at his feet. Frozen to the spot 

she stood, she could do nothing but watch as he tore her most precious clothing in a desperate effort to get rid of it all.

Eventually, he turned to her, obviously on the verge of tears. "Get all your stuff, and get the fuck out of my home before I come back from work. If you're still here..." he trailed off, not having the heart to issue the threat of death as he had been thinking.

They both stood silently for a few more moments, looking into one another's eyes. Finally, with a swish of ginger hair, he apparated out of the bedroom and Hermione was left all alone. She supposed, as she carefully packed her things, that she should probably get used to being alone. Ginny had promised to let her stay with her if Hermione's confession didn't turn out well, but with her engagement to Harry, she wondered how long she would be able to actually stay with her good friends.

Forty five minutes passed and Hermione was ready to leave. The tears had stopped a while ago, but as she neared the desk where her parchment and quill were laid out, she found her face soaked with the salty substance once more. She leant over the desk, not caring that her tears were ruining the parchment, and wrote:

_I suppose all good things must come to an end. I never meant to hurt you._

_I will always love you Ron,_

_Hermione x._

With trunk in hand, she left the house and held her wand out over the side of the street. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then quite suddenly, a large triple-decker bus materialised in front of her. The doors slid open and she stepped up into the Knight Bus.

/&\/&\/&\

Over the next week, Hermione found herself trapped by her own will in Ginny's spare bedroom. Sorrow and depression had overtaken her and had dared not leave the room once since arriving unless it was to go to the toilet or shower. Ginny brought her food three times a day and would stay for a chat, attempting in vain to lure Hermione from the room.

Nothing could cheer the girl up, not even her precious books could get the job done. She would just stay in her room, the curtains drawn, staring at the light attempting to penetrate the thick material and occasionally crying silently while rubbing her stomach to feel closer to the baby within, the only light within her new dark life.

As the second week dawned, Hermione had stopped bathing and seemingly had no care in the world for her personal hygiene.

"I have no idea what to do," Ginny groaned in the middle of the second week. "I knew she'd be pretty bad after the break up, but I had no idea it'd her _this _bad, Harry."

Harry nodded silently, watching Ginny as she rushed around the kitchen while preparing a meal for three. In truth, he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to appear as if he felt sympathy for Hermione, as in a way he felt she had dug herself into this hole and it would be betraying his best friend, Ron. On the other hand, he had known Hermione almost as long and at times she had proven to be a far more loyal friend than Ron had during the war, which had ended only two years ago. She had been there to heal his wounds, both internal and external over the years. And now he wasn't repaying the favour. He was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"She won't even talk to me now, you know," Harry could hear Ginny's voice had risen in shrillness due to the pain the subject was causing her. "D-Do you think you could... have a word with Ron, Harry?"

She turned to Harry with a hopeful yet hurt expression on her face, and it broke his heart and managed to somehow multiply the guilt and sorrow he was already feeling. He snapped his eyes away from hers and took a sudden interest in his own shoes.

"I can't," he said finally. "You know how Ron is. He goes mental if he thinks someone's even been thinking about Hermione and... You-know-who."

Ginny furrowed her brows and looked bewilderedly at her lover, "Voldemort?"

"No, no. _Him._"

It took Ginny a few moments, but eventually she understood. "Oh! _Him._"

It seemed that everyone in the Wizarding world knew exactly who Hermione had had her affair with, and although the _Daily Prophet _was having a field day with the scandal (not only one but _TWO _of Harry Potter's best friends were involved! What a pay day!), those close to Hermione and Ron had begun referencing to the man as 'him'.

Ginny resumed cooking for a few moments before turning back to Harry. "You talk with her then. You've come round almost every day and haven't even popped in to say hi."

"I can't!" he said, stricken back. "Ron'll kill me!"

It took a few seconds, but soon, Ginny's face had contorted into an expression that he had only ever seen on Molly Weasley before when Fred and George had said or done something extremely wrong. He gulped and suddenly felt extremely sympathetic to the Weasley children. Without another word, he scarpered off towards the spare bedroom before Ginny could start screaming.

He knocked quickly, as he could see Ginny's head poking out from the kitchen and glaring at him. There was silence, except for the boiling sounds coming from the kitchen. He looked helplessly towards Ginny and she waved her hands, signalling for him to go inside.

With a gulp, he opened the door and poked his head inside. Hermione was sitting up on the double bed and the room was pitch black except for the slither of light coming from the open door. She was staring at the curtains covering the window and the room stank of body odour.

"'Mione?" he whispered tentatively. "Can I come in?"

Her head turned and for a few seconds she seemed to inspect him. A small smile flashed over her face, and then she turned to look at the curtains once more. Taking this as a 'yes', Harry manoeuvred his way through the dirt clothing and various items scattered across the floor and sat down on the end of her bed.

Silence passed over them for almost a minute before Harry asked lamely, "You ok?" Hermione's body gave an almighty shudder and wail. Tears were freefalling from her eyes once more, but this time she didn't care about being silent. She wanted to let all the pain out.

Harry rushed up to the headboard and took his friend his arms. He began stroking her hair, ignoring the grease that had started to collect there and whispering soothing comments to her. It was hard to fight back tears himself; it always pained him incredibly to see those he cared about being hurt. Only the guilt stopped him from crying with her. He had ignored her pain for two weeks, now he had to be strong for her just as he had been for Ron. Hermione certainly needed it more.

It was an hour before Hermione had stopped crying, and with Harry's continuous attempts at soothing her, she was soon sleeping. He carefully laid her head down on her pillow and crept out of the room.

Ginny was standing next to the door with a hand cupped around her ear. She smiled sheepishly at Harry and rushed back to the kitchen. A few seconds later she called him for dinner and they didn't hear a peep out of Hermione for the rest of the night.

/&\/&\/&\

_Author's note_: Ok so this is my first fanfic attempt, I hope you like it. Please send me some constructive criticism; it'll be welcomed with open arms! I promise this story isn't going to be all gloom and doom; things will be looking up pretty soon in the upcoming chapters!


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